Voodoo mix of left and right

Some of the decisions of the Abbott government have been as surprising as a Mitchell Johnson bouncer, kicking off a good length and knocking our heads back in astonishment. In December, the political class was stunned by the news of
Natasha Stott Despoja
becoming Australia’s Ambassador for Women.

No one saw it coming: the Coalition appointing a trendy left dilettante to a diplomatic posting. With the country in the middle of a budget emergency, surely this should have been an opportunity for cost savings. The Prime Minister claims to be opposed to special feminist initiatives, yet in this case, he was willing to appoint a political feminist to a special position – supported by an expensive travel budget and remuneration.

I was left wondering: what does an Ambassador for Women do for a day? Stott Despoja has no specific embassy to work from or any designated government with which to liaise on Australia’s behalf. Does she head to North Ryde each morning, pestering staff at the Macquarie Dictionary to change the meaning of gender-related words such as “misogyny"? Or does she organise the International Ernie Awards, making speeches about men in blue ties? There’s a former Labor leader who would have done this for free. In accepting her appointment, Stott Despoja said she had “always been prepared to work with all sides of politics when it comes to the interests of women and children". She spoke about her “commitment to gender equality" in her “personal life". Yet this is what worries me. Her definition of the interests of children is very different to that of the Australian mainstream.

The former Democrats leader has a record of disenfranchising boys. As most parents appreciate, little fellas love to run around as crime fighters, using make-believe weapons against the forces of evil. But in the Spectator Australia, Stott Despoja’s husband Ian Smith has admitted that “Natasha is not a fan of weapons, toys or otherwise, in the house".

He has told the story of how, a few years ago, their children’s school organised a Spanish Day, for which Stott Despoja dressed their son as the character Zorro. But then she refused to buy him a plastic sword – a denial of basic human rights. There is no point in being Zorro unless a boy can brandish a quick-wristed rapier, cutting Z shapes into the sky. Zorro without his sword is like Batman without a utility belt or The Hulk without ripped clothing.

At the time, I was very concerned for the young man, but now I’m worried on a broader front. What if the new Ambassador takes her censorial agenda onto the international stage, urging women across the world to confiscate little Zorro’s sabre? Maybe it’s part of a gender equality push: girls don’t have super-hero toys, so boys can’t have them either.

In Third World countries, boys will be doubly disadvantaged: not only denied the fun of being fully fledged Zorros, but watching their parents lose their jobs in plastic sword factories. Poor people have enough problems without having Natasha’s reverse-Santa ideology inflicted on them. Australia now needs an Ambassador for Zorro, a dashing masked figure protecting the world’s crime fighters from plastic sword confiscation.

If Hugh Jackman is not available, I would happily volunteer. It’s also a job for Australia’s new “freedom commissioner"
Tim Wilson
, ensuring that Zorros everywhere are free to engage in mock sword-fights.

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Ultimately, the Stott Despoja posting was a cynical piece of politics. Prior to September’s election, with the Coalition well ahead in the polls,
Tony Abbott
planned to cancel the appointment of Labor’s
Steve Bracks
as Australia’s Consul-General in New York, saving the position for his numbers man, the former Liberal senator,
Nick Minchin
.

The fix was in, but how to implement it in government? Stott Despoja’s appointment was a ruse, designed to take the heat out of Minchin’s new job (which was announced last month). With a leftie sweetheart like Stott Despoja already touring the diplomatic cocktail circuit, it was harder for Abbott’s critics to cry “jobs for the boys". For both appointments (Stott Despoja and Minchin), the government fed the news to the Liberal apparatchik Chris Kenny at The Australian – a co-ordinated PR strategy to dampen media hostility. In his personal beliefs, Minchin is no less zany than Stott Despoja. He is, in effect, a frustrated scientist, promoting a voodoo mix of left- and right-wing theories. According to Julius Sumner Minchin, climate scientists are wrong to talk about global warming, medical scientists are wrong to link passive smoking to health problems and nutritional scientists are wrong to tell people it’s safe to eat red meat. In Minchinology, it is not nicotine that causes cancer but too many trips to the butcher shop. Now this climate change-denying vegetarian is on his way to the Big Apple. No wonder Abbott abolished the position of science minister. With Minchin leaving the country, the Coalition has lost its Dr Knowledge, an ANU law graduate who knows exactly what needs to be done about carbon, tobacco and beef consumption. You can’t buy that type of expertise.

What next for the Abbott government in its wacky array of diplomatic appointments? Cory Bernardi as an Ambassador for Dogs, protecting the international canine community from bestiality? Or
Barnaby Joyce
as Australia’s Ambassador for Beetroots, taking his boiling, crimson-faced Question Time performances to the rest of the world? Perhaps
Malcolm Turnbull
could slot in as our first Ambassador for Hollywood. His acting skills offer a rare blend of Shakespearian drama and Benny Hill slapstick. He starts every performance with the pathos of King Lear, but then finishes with the parliamentary equivalent of fart jokes. Most likely, the government’s next overseas posting will reflect the theatre of the absurd:
Alexander Downer
donning his fishnet stockings in London’s West End.